Mage-Guard of Hamor

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  He concentrated once more, this time trying to reach out to find the nearest company of rebels, visualizing their maroon-and-khaki uniforms. The mists returned to the glass and swirled across it, finally parting to show a hazy group of mounted troopers slogging toward him along a paved road in the rain. Rahl could feel himself becoming light-headed, and immediately released the image, taking a deep breath as he sat on the old stool.

  He turned, but did not rise, as Khelra walked toward him, her steps tentative. He could sense a combination of fear and curiosity. “Yes?”

  “You were using that glass, weren’t you, Majer? Like the old magi’i?”

  Rahl nodded. He stood slowly, then rewrapped the glass and eased it under his arm. “I’ll be going. Some of the rest of Second Army will be arriving later. Please be careful.”

  “As if you cared…ser.”

  “I do care. I wish you no harm, and I’m sorry that your consort threw in with the rebels. I’ve already reported that you had nothing to do with what he did and that your assistance was valuable.”

  “Like as you said about Gorsyn, most likely.”

  “I only said that Gorsyn paid his tariffs, most likely knowing where they were going, but not ever asking.”

  At that, the cooper frowned. “He owns the distillery.”

  “You own the chandlery and cooperage,” Rahl replied with a smile, then inclined his head. “Thank you. We do need to begin scouting before the main forces arrive.”

  “You’re welcome, Majer.” She inclined her head.

  Rahl could feel her eyes on his back as he left, and her feeling of puzzlement. At least she wasn’t angry anymore. He didn’t need to make any more unnecessary enemies anywhere. He suspected he had enough, and probably among both the Imperial forces and the rebels.

  Once outside in the early light, under a cool and clear green-blue sky, he mounted and rode across the square, then south to where Third Company was forming up. The wind was blowing briskly out of the southwest and held a slight dampness.

  Drakeyt turned in the saddle as Rahl approached. “You weren’t long.”

  “The reception was cool, and I didn’t have that much to write.” Rahl held up the envelope. It wasn’t sealed, but he’d never had a seal. He extended it to the captain. “My dispatch to the overcommander.”

  Drakeyt leaned to the side and took the envelope, then straightened. “Here comes Fysett. We’re also sending Halamar and Jugyst with him.” As the three troopers neared, Drakeyt went on, “My thought was that you and fourth squad should take the road almost to Thalye—or until you discover any signs of rebels. That will give us an idea of what might lie along the road. The other squads will fan out along the side lanes, and I’ll take second squad up the lane that the map says connects with the old road. If we see any traces of rebels, we’ll return to the main road, and I’ll send a messenger for you.”

  Rahl had thought of doing it the other way, but he realized that Drakeyt was right. They needed to know what would face them on the main road first. “We can do that.”

  Immediately after sending off the three troopers and completing muster, Rahl and fourth squad headed straight out of Lahenta on the paved main road. Rahl sensed nothing, and the only signs of the retreating rebels were a few hoofprints on the shoulder of the road, all of them looking to be several days old.

  Slightly less than three kays out of Lahenta, Rahl and the reorganized fourth squad did find the remnants of the five-kay kaystone—and the hillock was exactly as he had seen in the screeing glass. At that point, he looked across the sky ahead. He could make out what might have been clouds to the southwest, but they had to be somewhere beyond Thalye.

  If…if he had used the glass correctly the second time, then the way to Thalye was clear—at the moment, but the riders had been headed toward Thalye, and someone wanted them there enough to dispatch them through a rainstorm.

  For all that, the rest of the day brought no other signs of rebels, not even on the back road, not so far as Drakeyt and second squad had gone, and Rahl could not find any sign of rebels or traps. All the squads of Third Company returned to Lahenta, the latest being first squad under Quelsyn, a bit before sunset. The senior squad leader did return with several yearling lambs, obtained with the promise of script from Drakeyt.

  “With the rest of the army on its way, ser,” explained Quelsyn, “I thought it might be best if we procured some fresh meat for Third Company while it was there for the procuring.”

  Both Rahl and Drakeyt smiled at that.

  Taryl and two battalions of mounted infantry arrived in Lahenta late on twoday, just after sunset, although the clouds that had rolled in from the southwest had brought twilight even earlier. The overcommander had no compunctions about requisitioning dwellings—or at least none about requisitioning Gorsyn’s.

  Still, it was pitch-dark by the time the overcommander sent a messenger for Rahl, and he arrived in the small study at the north end of the distiller’s dwelling.

  Taryl said little until Rahl closed the door. “Sit down.” The overcommander gestured to one of the cushioned wooden chairs set across from the desk behind which he sat.

  “What did you discover today?” asked Taryl.

  “At the moment, the approaches to Thalye are without rebel forces nearby. I believe that there are a number moving this way, however.”

  “I am most certain that there are. Is your conclusion based on surmise, or on some form of evidence?”

  Rahl did not speak for a moment. Did he want to tell Taryl? Finally, he cleared his throat. “I’ve been trying to follow your advice and think ahead. It did cross my mind that it would be easier to plan if I could find some way to discover what was happening beyond the range of my eyes and order-senses. So…I’ve been working with trying to develop my screeing abilities.”

  Taryl’s eyes widened, if only slightly. “How do you know you’re discerning what is as opposed to what you wish to see?”

  “I didn’t, not at first, but this morning…” Rahl went on to explain about the missing kaystone, then the riders in the rain. “…and they were headed this way. If they’re riding in the rain…”

  “Then someone definitely wants to slow or stop us.” Taryl nodded. “Could you tell how many?”

  “No, ser. There was a large column, but I couldn’t hold the image long.”

  “I’m surprised that you could tell that much. Very few mages can use a glass, and even fewer ordermages. It takes a great deal of strength.” Taryl sighed. Loudly. “That brings up another point that we need to discuss. You still have this tendency not to understand your limitations. That failure could be fatal to you and costly to the rest of us as well.” The overcommander fingered his chin, then pursed his lips, before tilting his head.

  Rahl had the feeling he wasn’t going to like what Taryl was about to say. “I appreciated the warning about what you did to the road outside Lahenta.” Taryl shook his head. “Rahl, it’s a good thing you have an orderly spirit, because you have this tendency to think up extremely nasty applications of order-skills, and you don’t always complete the follow-up. I had a headache for the rest of the day after stabilizing the ground there.” There was another pause. “You know that over forty lancers and rebel troopers drowned in your order-quicksand, don’t you? That’s in addition to the ones you and Third Company killed.”

  “I knew some had died,” Rahl admitted. How could he not? He’d felt the smothering deaths. “I thought I had stabilized the ground there.”

  “You didn’t get it all, and it was beginning to spread again. That is a problem when you start attempting to…adjust order-linkages, especially when you use all your strength all at once.”

  Rahl couldn’t help wincing at the mild-sounding reprimand. “I’m sorry.” Why was it that everything he did upset someone? Why couldn’t he think well enough to get things done right on the first try? Besides, what real choice had he had?

  “I won’t tell you that it’s all right,” Taryl said.
“It turned out all right because I caught it. But what would have happened if I hadn’t been there?”

  “The rock would have limited it, but it would have been a mess, anyway.”

  Taryl snorted. “Not that much of a limitation. We would have had a great southern swamp and more stun-lizards than arrows in Candar.”

  Rahl kept his anger behind his shields. Finally, he spoke. “I understand the danger I created. I worried about it at the time. I didn’t see any other way to save Third Company. Given my abilities, what would you have suggested?”

  “Looking more closely at the terrain and not getting yourself into such a position. Once you were caught,” Taryl’s voice softened, “your choices were limited. Looking ahead is one of the most difficult things for talented mages to learn, especially natural ordermages. You have such ability that you personally could escape almost any situation. Those under your care and command may not always be that fortunate.”

  That Rahl already knew, and he wished Taryl hadn’t reminded him.

  “Your dispatch was not particularly explicit in describing how you destroyed the white wizard, but I did note a rather large area devoid of both order and chaos.” Taryl’s voice remained mild. “It is likely to remain lifeless for generations. Exactly what did you do?”

  “He was throwing so much chaos that I couldn’t get close to him and still protect fifth squad,” Rahl said. “I got as close as I could, and then…well…I made up an order-bolt and threw it at him, at the same time that I threw the truncheon at him. It had a little order in it as well—”

  “More than a little, I’m certain, given how you’ve been using it. What else did you do?”

  “Pressed my shields against his and punched the order-bolt through.”

  “I’m surprised you’re still alive, given all the force you loosed.”

  “I managed to hold my shields around the squad. All except two troopers,” Rahl amended. “Long enough, anyway.”

  “Captain Drakeyt noted that your squad had to carry you back. He’s rather impressed with you, but he thinks—and I concur—that you risk yourself too much.” Taryl’s eyes bored into Rahl. “Do you think getting yourself killed will help anyone?”

  “Ah…” Rahl had the feeling any answer was wrong.

  “Do you ever want to see your healer again?”

  Why was Taryl asking about Deybri?

  The overcommander sighed again.

  Rahl almost winced, even though he knew Taryl’s gesture was as much for effect as real.

  “Rahl…” Taryl’s voice was low, gentle, and persuasive. “One of the secrets to winning a battle or a war is to make the other side overextend itself, always at a high cost, until it cannot recover. So far, only your incredible abilities have saved your neck, and your posterior. The closer we get to Nubyat, the more likely it is that you will face someone with equal strength as a mage and with far more experience. If you continue your almost-foolhardy ways, you will not survive. You need to harness your creativity in using order to somewhat more caution and greater foresight. Make them have to react to you rather than your having to react to them.”

  “How would you have handled the situation coming into Lahenta, then, ser?” asked Rahl.

  “I would have scouted much farther ahead when it became apparent that the road was rising into a pass. Narrow passes where the defender holds the high ground are always harder on whoever has to attack uphill or defend from an uphill attack. If you had drawn up Third Company short of their entrapment, then they would have been faced with attacking you on a narrow road on level ground. Your superior mage-craft would have worked to your advantage because they would not have been able to surround you. You still could have used the same tactic with the chaos-ooze, but they would have had to cross it to attack you, and you could not have been attacked from behind.”

  Taryl made it sound so easy.

  “Now…I admit that it’s not always that easy, but you’re very bright, Rahl. You need to think in those terms. You need to ask how many ways could the rebels attack you at every point of your patrols and how you could best respond to each attack. If such an attack might inflict heavy losses, then you need to think of a better way to approach—or make very sure that there are no enemy forces anywhere close before you employ massive magery.”

  “Yes, ser.”

  Taryl smiled, almost fatherly. “It may seem as though I’m being hard on you, but I’m trying to get you to expand your thinking and the way in which you use your brains and your abilities because matters are going to get worse before they get better.”

  Rahl understood that, but he still felt that Taryl had no idea what it had been like.

  “One other thing, Rahl, before we get into what you’ll be doing tomorrow…”

  “Yes, ser?”

  “Find yourself a staff or something longer than that patrol truncheon. I shouldn’t have to tell you this. If you keep overusing your order-abilities, you’re going to need it.” After the briefest of pauses, Taryl went on. “Now…tomorrow, I’ll need you to see if you can pinpoint where those rebel troops are or at least from where they’re coming….”

  Rahl sat and listened intently as the overcommander explained in detail what he wanted. At the back of his mind, he still wondered why Taryl had referred to Deybri. Was it just to get through to him?

  He forced his concentration back onto Taryl’s words.

  LVIII

  Early on threeday, just after dawn, Rahl took out the glass once more and tried to scree exactly where the nearest rebel troopers might be. All he could determine before his head began to pound and the light-headedness threatened to overwhelm him was that close to a battalion of heavy infantry was encamped in a small hamlet surrounded by grasslands in a flat area where the grass remained green.

  While he and Drakeyt sat on a bundle of hay and ate rations and strips of left-over lamb, Rahl studied Drakeyt’s maps to see if he could determine where the rebels might be. Following Taryl’s implied advice about assuming the worst about the enemy’s tactics and position, he thought that they might be about five kays south from Thalye, just south of where a line of hills had been sketched in on the map. Supposedly, there was a stretch of grassland beyond Thalye that separated the less populated inland parts of Merowey from the richer lands along the coast.

  “I’d judge they’re here.” Rahl pointed. “I’m not sure, but that’s where it feels like.”

  “It’d make sense, but that worries me because nothing’s made much sense so far.” Drakeyt grinned.

  “It still doesn’t,” Rahl said. “They’ve only got a battalion there, and the ground is pretty open, not like that pass coming into Lahenta.”

  “Maybe they’re just trying to block Third Company. Three companies didn’t stop us; so now they’re trying five.”

  Rahl still didn’t like what he’d screed, and he could sense that Drakeyt didn’t either. But he didn’t know what else he could do but carry out Taryl’s orders. He didn’t see much point in tracking down Taryl just to report that he had a slightly better idea of where the rebels were, since he was partly guessing, anyway. The important thing was that Taryl knew about where they were and that they were headed toward Second Army.

  Rahl stood, carefully folding the maps and handing them back to the captain. “I need to see the cooper before we head out. I’m hoping she can make me a replacement truncheon or something like it. I should have thought about that earlier.”

  Drakeyt nodded. “There’s always something. About the time you learn what you’re doing, they promote you or transfer you, and you start all over.” He paused. “Then again, if you don’t learn, you get relieved or killed.”

  “You’re so cheerful,” Rahl said dryly.

  “Just realistic, Majer.”

  Rahl saddled the gelding, then mounted. He rode northward toward the square with a damp wind at his back, under thick clouds that suggested rain. Rahl could order-sense that any rain that might fall would be light and would likel
y not last long. When he reached the square and the chandlery/cooperage, he reined up and dismounted, tied the gelding to the ancient wooden railing, and stepped up onto the narrow porch. He only knocked on the cooperage door once before Khelra opened it, holding it ajar.

  “Yes, Majer?”

  “I’d like to commission something from you, if you can do it.”

  “You want some sort of barrel?”

  “No. I’d like a wooden truncheon, a sort of staff with a hilt, a little longer than a sabre.” Rahl gestured to the empty scabbard at his belt. He’d left the patrol truncheon in his saddlebags. “One that would fit in here.”

  “Out of oak or something sturdy?”

  “Lorken would be best, dark oak next, oak after that.”

  “Come on in. You need to sketch out what you want. We’ll see if it’s possible. Then we’ll talk coins.” Khelra walked away from the door through the dim and unlit single room toward the cooper’s workbench against the south wall. “When do you need it?”

  “By tonight, or tomorrow morning at the latest.” Rahl followed her.

  “That figures.” She stopped at the bench. “What happened to the one you had?”

  “It got destroyed in a fight with a white wizard.”

  Khelra just nodded. Behind the expression, there was little surprise, as if fighting with a white wizard were the most normal thing in the world. “That why you don’t you use a blade like the others?”

  Rahl shook his head. “I can’t. I’m an ordermage. I know how to handle a blade, but using it for long would make me unable to do much of anything.”

  “All ordermages like that?”

  “Some can’t even pick up a blade without getting sick,” Rahl said.